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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794706">Dress</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCatProductions/pseuds/mimosa-supernova'>mimosa-supernova (FourCatProductions)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Femslash February 2020 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Femslash February, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:08:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794706</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCatProductions/pseuds/mimosa-supernova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Endarie hates everyone, but she hates Bryling a little less than everyone else.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Endarie/Bryling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Femslash February 2020 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by this conversation, as noted on the UESP:</p><p>Irnskar: "My lady, I'm pleased to inform you that you have a new gown for court, specially tailored by madame Endarie."<br/>Bryling: "Really? How did we afford that? Besides, I like the gown I already have."<br/>Irnskar: "Madame Endarie insisted. She made it free of charge, in honor of your lenience about last month's rent discrepancies."<br/>Bryling: "That was suspiciously nice of her. I thought she hated everyone."<br/>Irnskar: "She does, my lady. But apparently, she hates you just a little less than the others."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Endarie’s fingers are long, slender things, deft as any pickpocket’s – they can weave miracles from nothing but cloth and thin air. Right now they’re inside Bryling, her dress bunched up around her hips, and she claps a hand over her mouth so she doesn’t moan when Endarie’s thumb strokes her clit.</p><p>Endarie says nothing. She’s still perfectly composed, clothing neat and breathing even. Not a hair out of place as she fingers Bryling up against the wall of her salon, one hand working under her skirts and the other braced against the doorframe. Nothing to suggest that she even finds this particularly interesting, let alone was the one who initiated it.</p><p>It ought to be insulting. All it does is make her ache.</p><p>She arches her hips, spreads her legs a little wider. Endarie’s fingers rub at her, massaging and pressing, then slide out to draw slick circles around her clit before slipping back in, her breath warm on Bryling’s cheek. She’s not rough, not hasty, but her touch is unrelenting, working at Bryling until she’s up on her toes, panting through her fingers, rocking her hips into Endarie’s hand. Every stroke makes her tremble, eyelids fluttering. It’s been a long time, and even longer since anyone’s touched her like this, with such a single-minded focus on her pleasure and her pleasure alone. Endarie has sized her up like a fine bolt of cloth, taken her measure and shaped her with the same precision she does everything else that crosses her threshold. Like getting Bryling off is just another job.</p><p>It ought to be insulting. Instead, it makes her come.</p><p>It hits her all at once, jerking a rough exhale from her throat, and she shudders her way through it, clenching around Endarie’s fingers. She thinks there’s a murmur in her ear, something like <em>my lady </em>or <em>lovely, </em>but she’s too far gone to tell. She decides later that she must have imagined it. It’s not like Endarie to be complimentary.</p><p>“When you said you wanted to thank me for my leniency, this isn’t what I had in mind,” she says when she can form complete sentences again, sinking down into a nearby chair. Her legs don’t seem to want to hold her up any longer.</p><p>Endarie’s cleaning her hand off with her handkerchief, but she pauses then, gaze sliding to Bryling from the corner of her eye. “Was it unsatisfactory, my lady?”</p><p>“Not at all,” Bryling hastens to assure her. “Just unexpected.”</p><p>“Excellent.” Endarie tucks the handkerchief back into her apron pocket. “Now, onto the matter of your new dress.”</p><p>Bryling frowns, puzzled. “I don’t recall ordering anything.”</p><p>“I’ve made you a new gown.” She shrugs carelessly, tucking her hair behind one long, tapered ear. “Free of charge, of course.”</p><p>“That’s really not necessary,” Bryling starts, but before she can say much else, Endarie reaches out and puts a finger to her lips. She smells like Bryling, musk and salt clinging to her skin, and Bryling is suddenly very aware of how wet she still is, sticky and sensitive against the cloth. She presses her thighs together. Endarie’s eyes gleam like septims in the firelight.</p><p>“I insist,” she says. Her finger catches on Bryling’s lower lip, stroking a little before pulling away. A shiver runs down Bryling’s back. Endarie’s expression doesn’t change, but her touch is deliberate as she smooths the wrinkles from Bryling’s bodice, hands lingering over her breasts a second too long. “Of course, you’ll have to come see me to get it fitted.”</p><p>“Fredas,” Bryling hears herself say, sounding very far away. She doesn’t have anything important on Fredas. Endarie steps away, turning to examine herself in the looking glass. Combs her fingers through her hair, adjusts her necklace, dabs at her eye paint.</p><p>“As you like.” In the mirror, she meets Bryling’s gaze, and her thin lips twitch, once. “In fact, Fredas will be perfect.”</p>
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